Phoenix
by MatsuMama
Summary: On the eve of Aizen's defeat, Ichigo and Rukia find each other. But nothing is a simple as it seems...IchiRuki, IchiHime, RenRuki - all kinds of angst my beta will never forgive me for. Sorry, cream tea anyone! Oneshot.


Ichigo wakes, deep in the night.

For a long moment, he can't think of where he is, how he got here. A heartbeat resounds along with his, a whisper counterpoints his breath, and in a sickening-seductive rush he remembers the important thing, the unforgettable.

The unfathomable.

_Oh gods...what have we done_?

She wakes, too. Wrapped in a cloak of darkness, she closes her eyes but it doesn't block him out, the heat, the pulsation that echoes hers. Though she knows they've been sleeping for hours, it seems their pulses are just now slowing from the racing, throbbing rythm they beat before. The sweat and the heat and the intoxicating oneness that took them over, seemingly eons ago - but only a single night in the world. The mad rush that put them here, wrapped together alone in the dark.

Alone, but together.

What more in the universe was there?

They both know each other is awake but they don't speak. They don't dare. Speaking means thinking, means acknowledging, and neither of them are prepared for that right now.

All they want to do is embrace. Hold. Hold onto the night before it is gone.

Before long, an eternity gone, they fall back alseep. Arm in arm, breathing in tandem, legs tangled together. Her head rests on his chest, a birds egg safe in its nest, and he cradles her neck with his hand.

They sleep, and dream of the dawn.

* * *

When Rukia wakes again, he is gone but not far. She hardly needs to open her eyes, hardly needs to breathe; she can sense him long before she lets her eyelids part to see his silhouette standing in the doorway, the dawn sun haloing his outline as if he were a celestial being come to save her.

As he'd done before. As he might do again, were she selfish enough to claim him.

That, she cannot do. Not today.

The sunrise means consequences, means reality. Means pain and suffering. Not that either of them - _any of them_ - were strangers to the concept. But here, now, after last night, it seems like an abomination.

Still, it is inevitable, and wrapping the coarse blankets around herself she traipses over to him, coming up silently behind him like a squirrel seeking crumbs.

He doesn't turn. He doesn't need to.

She waits for him to speak.

"Sun's up." It is a benign enough statement, yet it holds universes of subtext.

"Hai." It is all she can think to say, agreement on minutae being a safe enough venture.

He shifts, his hands tucked into his armpits in a way she finds nearly as endearing as it is juvenile and annoying. "The others will be up soon."

A sentence that weighs tons, that could crush her if she lets it. Steeling herself, she circles around him and leans into his lanky frame, thin arms reaching around his waist, pulling inwards. He doesn't return the gesture, although she can tell he wants to. Again, she waits.

He twitches again, and when he speaks once more his voice is as strangled as she expects it would be.

"What we did-"

She draws back and kicks him; it's the only way to shut him up before he says things neither wants to hear.

When he is done rubbing himself and cursing, she mutters, in sharp and clipped tones while her thin arms wrap themselves tightly around herself...

"Last night was last night." He stills, in a way that echoes the leaden feeling spreading through her own chest. "It was, and won't be again."

It is as close to a lie as she has ever managed.

A long time passes before he speaks; she doesn't even need to look to see the liquid gold maelstrom that is in his eyes, mirroring the sunrise and resonating deeply with the agony he carries, the pain only she understands and with which she resonates so soundly, so perfectly. So addictively.

"Hai," he whisperes, and the sound nearly kills them both.

They say no more. As one, they turn back to the room, the scene of their guilt, their heaven, their endless hell. Silently, they dress, and when the time comes for them to emerge from the room they do so calmly, parting without another word or a backward glance.

Silently, they bear the weight of a memory that will eventually shatter them both.

* * *

Across the way, they are watched by another silently suffering pair.

"_Oiy_."

The masculine sound coming from behind her startles the life out of her; the woman-child jumps and whirls around. "Ai, Renji-kun! You're up early."

"Hush, baka," he says swiftly but without rancor, his eyes lookng past her face and the feigned innocence she is trying to exude. "All of Sereitei'll hear ya if you shout like that."

"Ooh..." Orihime flutters, flustered. It's not Serietiei either of them cares about, only the two people they just watched leave a tiny and ill-furnished room, but she's too polite and he's too rougish to say that. Unsure of what to do, she bats her eyelashes in a way that would almost be annoying if it wasn't so adorable. She desperately seeks a prevarication. "Oh! Renji-kun, are you feeling ok-?"

He snorts, but she knows he's not trying to be mean. He's being harsh, but not towards her; even Inoue can tell when someone is punishing themselves. "Fine. Just couldn't sleep, s'all."

"Me, neither." Just that much, spoken in a voice too serious, too solomn, and his narrowed eyes flash towards her. She capitulates and giggles, retreating behind her school-girl charm as she is wont to do when she is uncomfortable, or fears that others might be. Her silly noises make him smile, just a little bit, but the glint in his eyes tells her that - once again - she has slipped up and let someone see her hurting. Unnerved, she runs out of things to say.

A long silence sits heavily. It seems blasphemous, considering the beautiful sunrise.

When he speaks again she is well and truly surprised, although she should not have been.

"I was wondering how long it would take." His eyes narrowed further, pulling at the tatoos. Not for the first time, she admires his hair to the point where she almost forgets to respond.

"E-eh?" Not exaclty brilliant, but very _her_.

"For _them_." He jerked his chin in their direction, sharp but with a suprising lack of animosity.

She squirms, not nearly as dumb as she seems although unwillig to tackle this subject. Sensing that the revelation is premature, or at least the open discussion of it, he shows a remarkable amount of sympathy and softens his face into a grin.

"Ahh, you look like the world is over." His expression is hurting, but the bravery beind it makes her force herself to smile.

"Oh no!"she rushes to assure him, ignoring the tears in her eyes. "The world is safe now, we defeated Aizen and everything is perfect!" She rushes on, not thinking, stupid. "They were just celebrating-"

She trails off. Though she may have hidden depths, even she is not strong enough to maintain this illusion of happiness.

For a long time they stand on the porch, watching the sunrise, their gazes determinedly not looking at the tiny hovel across the way. The place of revelation and of truth, for their both loves and for themselves.

As the molton sun extricates itself from the horizon, Renji turnes and grunts, thick arms crossed and his posture only slightly hunched.

"Bah, that's what we get." He starts to slough off, but she stops him.

"Get for what?" She can't believe she said it, it slipped just out of her mouth, she doesn't want him to answer...

But he does. "For loving people we have to share."

Just that, that and a tormented gaze into her huge eyes, for just a breath-stealing moment. And then in a whorl of tatoos and a lopey gait, he retreats, back into the house, back to his waiting haori and his robes and his squad insignias and his duty.

If only she had as much.

Blinking her tears away, Orihime tugs her shirt a little bit further down, to smoothe out the wrinkles, and goes in search of Ichigo. Though it's not for her, she knows he's hurting and she'll find him and comfort him because that's what she does. And though it's not for him, he'll smile and let her and tell her he loves her and they'll both act like he's only lying a little bit.

_The war is over. People died. We are alive and we should be grateful for what we have_...

Repeating it like a litany, Inoue goes in search of the man she loves, the man she will never have.

The man she will never stop loving, even though now - and for a long time now - she knows the truth.


End file.
